So much I need to say to you
by Zoetjetoch
Summary: Syed has made up his mind and has gone back to Christian... But so much has been left unsaid...
1. Chapter 1

_A/N This is something I felt I needed to write after the episode of 15/07/11. So much was left unsaid. I needed to get into Christian's head...to understand him better and to make me love him again as much as I did before...  
>I'm actually quite worried about posting this. Have never written anything as fast as this, and I don't know what people's reactions will be... or if I got it right...<br>Do let me know what you think..._

**SO MUCH I NEED TO SAY TO YOU**

His arms squeeze tightly around me, I feel his face seeking refuge in the crook of my neck, his shivering breath on my skin ... and I close my eyes, feeling relief wash over me.  
>He came back! I have my Sy back in my arms.<br>He's home.  
>It's all I ever wanted.<p>

The feeling of his so familiar body so close to mine nearly makes me cry with gratitude. I feel like I almost can't breathe.  
>It's strange. It's barely been 24 hours since I last held him, and yet he feels so much frailer than I remember. I feel him tremble in my arms and squeeze him tight.<p>

He's sure. He said he's sure.  
>And I believe him.<br>I really do.

I'm catapulted back to the day he finally came home with me. The day he told me that he chose _me_. That he wanted to be with me. That he was _sure_. And I could hardly believe it. Not after everything that happened before. Not after him changing his mind every five minutes...  
>But I saw his eyes and the certainty, the sincerity in them, and I took the plunge, just the way he was taking his. I followed my heart, the same way he was finally following his. I decided to take the chance and believe him, and we haven't looked back since. It was the best decision in my life.<br>To believe him.  
>To trust him.<p>

I know in my heart that he wants to be a father. I do.  
>I've seen his eyes glow when we talked about it. I've seen him crumble at the thought that our chances might be slim. I've seen how he is with Amy, how his whole face lights up when he's holding Kamil...<br>He's going to be a brilliant father. I keep telling him that. Why doesn't he believe me?

He's just scared. Scared of himself, scared that he's not good enough... scared of his wretched mother's bigoted opinions... It's the same thing over and over again, and while my heart bleeds for him, sometimes I just want to shake him...  
>He needs me to push him onward. I've always had to do this. Force him into a decision, make him <em>see<em> what he wants. Because I _know_ what he wants.  
>I do, don't I?<br>But have I pushed him too hard this time...?

I piled expectations on him that were too much, too soon, too high...  
>I should have slowed down, I should have listened.<br>I should have known that he needed more time.  
>Yes, alright... maybe he should have told me sooner, but I just should have known.<br>I should have known...

When did I stop being able to read him?  
>I know when.<br>When I stopped looking.  
>When I started to take him for granted.<br>When I started to take his love for granted.

I feel the guilt tugging sharply at my heart.

He deserves better. My darling deserves so much better than to be taken for granted. I promised him that I never would...  
>And what did I do?<br>I forced his hand, pushed him into a corner.  
>I didn't trust him to make the right decision, so I made it for him.<br>What on earth gives me that right?

All at once it strikes me. Like a blow to my face.  
>What have I done?<p>

I gambled, I gambled recklessly, and I did so knowing full well that the stakes were so incredibly high. I gambled with his feelings, and with my own... I stood to lose so much, and still... I nearly gambled it away, with not a second thought. I could have lost him, for real, and it would have been nothing but my own stupid fault.  
>Suddenly, the thought of that makes me feel almost physically sick.<p>

What if he hadn't come back?  
>What if he had believed me when I said I was going to go on without him if I had to?<br>What if he had believed that my wish to become a parent was stronger than my love for him?

I threw all that in his face, even if it wasn't true. I was so angry – and when I get angry my impulses take over. I say the words that pop up in my head without thinking. And then I couldn't take it back. I wanted to kick myself when I saw the hurt in his eyes, as if I'd hit him in the face - and I wanted nothing more than rush up to him, wrap him in my arms and tell him I didn't mean it... But I didn't listen to my heart this time. Instead I chose to remain angry and stubborn. I closed my eyes for his pain, and I gambled.

And I nearly lost...

But I didn't.  
>Still, I feel no gratification from the knowledge that I gambled right...<br>Now that the clouds have cleared, and I can see what I've done.

I've treated him appallingly, I see that now.  
>And I should have seen it sooner.<br>After everything he gave up for me, after everything we've been through, I should have trusted him more.  
>I should have believed in him more. It's the least he deserves.<br>He told me once that I was the first one who ever really believed in him. More than he believed in himself. It broke my heart to hear him say that, and I vowed I would never let him down.

I feel like a fool.

My head is still a myriad of thoughts, my face still buried in the crook of his neck, when I feel him stir in my arms.  
>"Christian?" he says – he sounds weary "Are you okay?"<br>I realize we've been standing here in the doorway for minutes, me holding on to him tightly, as if for dear life. Poor Sy, the way I squeeze him in my arms, he must be out of breath... I relax my hold, pull back a bit, and smile at him gently. The look on his beautiful, but oh so serious face, takes my breath away. I hope that the love I feel for him is written on my face, just like his love for me is etched in his features.

"I'm fine" My voice is quivering, even I can hear it.  
>I look into his gorgeous eyes and swallow hard.<p>

"Sy... I'm so sorry" I say.

He shakes his head as if he wants to dismiss my apology, as if it doesn't matter.  
>But then, out of nowhere, his eyes well up, and I can see how he struggles to keep the emotions at bay.<br>I softly caress his cheek, and take his hand in mine.

"Come..." I say "Let's go inside. We need to talk. Really talk..."  
>"I'd like that" he says, and squeezes my hand.<p>

"And I promise I will listen" I vow.  
>He smiles a little.<br>"I'd like that a lot"

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><em>One more chapter to follow hopefully - but need to get my head round it first... so you may have to be patient for a bit...<em>  
><em>Thanks for reviewing.<em>


	2. Chapter 2

**_A/N : The initial idea was to have this whole conversation in the second and last chapter of this story, but there was "so much they need to say" that the chapter was quickly becoming far too long... So I split it into two.  
>This part is Syed's POV. A third and final chapter with Christian's POV will follow very shortly. <em>**

SO MUCH I NEED TO SAY TO YOU – CHAPTER 2

With my hand securely folded in his, I follow him into the living room. Our living room. Our new flat. Our new home...  
>I'm so relieved. I'm so glad I'm here with him.<br>I watch him next to me, and feel my heart soar. Sometimes my love for him just overwhelms me so much that I want to cry with joy and gratitude.

Other times though, that same wonderful man makes me want to cry in frustration.  
>Because besides the relief, I feel something else. Something still gnaws at me... Well, not some vague "something"... I know what it is. It was <em>Christian<em> who decided that this was going to be our new home. _He_ decided that. On his own. Again. He didn't even think to ask me what I thought... what _I _wanted. He made up his mind, and just expected me to go along... And of course I do, I always do...  
>I stubbornly shake the thought away.<br>For now.  
>We have more important things to talk about.<p>

The place is a mess. There's boxes everywhere, and clutter is spread around the room.

"Why don't you sit down..." he says, as he reluctantly lets go of my hand, and nervously swipes away a stack of clothes from the sofa. As I carefully sit down on the soft, familiar cushions, I watch Christian look for somewhere to put the clothes. He finally deposits them on top of the nearest removal box where another pile of stuff leans dangerously towards the floor. It promptly topples over, and I can't help but giggle a bit at his futile attempts to stop the avalanche of clothes.

But Christian doesn't smile, instead he frustratedly runs his hands through his hair and sighs.  
>"I'll get us a cup of tea then..." he says, dismissing the jumble on the floor with a defeatist shrug.<br>"Christian, there's no nee..." I interrupt him, but he doesn't hear me.  
>"At least... if I can find the kettle..." He sighs again "and the mugs... or even the tea bags..." I watch him rummaging through the boxes nervously – he moves around the room, all jittery and jumpy, randomly picking stuff from the boxes.<br>"Christian, I don't..." I try again, but he goes on... When he finally locates the kettle, and pulls it out, its cord catches on a mug, and it comes flying down on the floor with a startling crash.

"Oh ….. shit!" he exclaims. With a groan he sizes up the damage, and his shoulders sag in defeat.  
>I can't take any more of this. I jump up, manage to dodge the removal box obstacle course and place myself in front of him. He's shaking, and it startles me to see him like this.<br>"Hey... Christian..." I say to him gently.  
>"Careful" he mumbles, seemingly going at great lengths not to look at me "Don't hurt yourself... there's shards everyw..."<br>"Shhhhhhhhh" I soothe him, and take his restive hands in mine. "Christian... Calm down...!"  
>I put my finger under his chin, and make him face me.<br>"What's going on? What's all this panic about?" I ask him quietly, and he finally looks me in the eye.

"We really need to talk, Sy" he says. His voice is rough, barely audible.  
>"Yeah, we do..." I smile at him gently. "Come on, let's sit down..."<br>This time it's me who takes his hand firmly in mine, and leads him to the sofa.

We're sitting next to each other in silence. I glance at him. He's calmed down a little, even though he still looks apprehensive. I hold his hand in mine, and smile at him reassuringly. He returns that smile with a tremulous one. There's so much we need to say, and right now, neither of us can seem to find the right words.

It's me who finally breaks the silence.  
>"So... ask me then" I say.<br>He looks at me hesitantly.  
>"What...?"<br>"Ask me" I repeat "Ask me that burning question you're dying to ask.."  
>He still doesn't answer, so I do it for him.<br>"Ask me why, Christian. Ask me why I changed my mind..."  
>He closes his eyes, and I know I have read him right.<p>

"Ask me" I say again.  
>"Why have you changed your mind?" he croaks.<p>

I take a deep breath. I have no idea where my answer to this is going to lead us.  
>But it's the answer I have to give...<p>

"Because I love you... and I'm ready"

His eyes fly open, and he looks at me speechless as he hears his own words coming back to him. I don't waver from his stare.  
>"You're still angry at me... aren't you?"<br>"What makes you think that? Me saying that I love you... or...?"  
>"Sy... don't be like this..." he sighs.<br>"Like what..?" I can't help it – I don't want to sound petty, I hate sounding petty, and yet I can't help myself. "What's wrong with my answer?"  
>I hate this side of me. Picking away at things, not able to let go.<p>

He sighs again. "When I gave you that same answer yesterday, I know you saw it as just... a cop-out... or something. And maybe it was..." he admits. "Maybe I was just skimming over the real issues, but..."  
>"It <em>was<em> a cop-out, Christian. An easy answer you thought would appease me. But that's just it, there _is_ no "one size fit-all" answer to this... I need _more_ than that."  
>"But I meant what I said, Sy – I <em>do<em> love you and I _am_ ready..."

"I know that!  
>I <em>know<em> that you love me, Christian. And I _know_ that you're ready... What I _don't_ know..."  
>I swallow hard. We're getting to the crux of the matter now<p>

"What I _don't_ know is why _this_... why becoming parents has so suddenly, so quickly, become so imperative, so crucial that it somehow has taken over our lives. Every time we talk, it's about that. Every time we argue it's about that. It's ruling our lives, and our relationship, and I don't know how that happened... or _why_..."

"Sy..." he starts, but I stop him.  
>"Tell me, Christian... When and why did this adoption take on such proportions... that it... that it's suddenly the only thing that matters. That it suddenly matters more to you than anything... than <em>us<em>..."

There, I said it.

"It's doesn't" he says "it doesn't matter more..."  
>"It's what you said" I say defensively.<br>"_No_"  
>"<em>Yes<em>! You said it. You said..."  
>I'm choking up. I can't say it. The memory of those words he threw at me makes me want to crawl into a little ball and cry my eyes out.<br>But I've got to do this. I need to know.

"You said you'd do it on your own, Christian, if you had to... What am I supposed to think at that? What else does that mean then?"  
>"I was angry, Sy... I lashed out"<br>"No, Christian, that wasn't just lashing out... You didn't just say it once...you said it again. Twice... _twice_ you said that you'd do it without me. That you would..."

"Sy... _please_.." he reaches out for my hand, but I don't want him to touch me, not right now.  
>"You said... " I can hardly get the words out. But I have to. "That you refused to give up your dream <em>just<em> to be with me..."  
>"Sy..."<br>"You said that, Christian... "  
>"I swear to you, I didn't mean it..."<br>"Makes no odds, you still said it. And it... it hurt so much..."  
>I bite back the tears that threaten to fall. I need to be tough, I need to get this out in the open. I don't want to cry.<p>

"It _hurts_, Christian"  
>"Sy..."<br>"_Just_ to be with me...you said. _Just_...? As if I'm some... _afterthought_ or something...?"  
>"No...!"<br>"Give up your _dream_, Christian? The thing is..." and suddenly my own despair hits me so hard I can barely breathe.  
>"The thing is... I used to think that your <em>dream<em> was _this_... that your dream was... _us_!"

I feel, more than I can see it, how his breath catches at that.

"Because... _My_ dream is us, Christian. It's all I ever wanted..."

I feel so deflated suddenly. I have so much more to say, but the words are stuck somewhere between my heart and my mouth.  
>Next to me, Christian puts his face in his hands.<br>"I'm a fool..." he breathes, barely audible.

"Yes you are" I tell him. "But I love you so much..."  
>I can't stop my voice from breaking. "So much..."<p>

For a fraction of a second, all is silent, and somewhere in my muddled mind I hear him breathe out with a deep, shivering sigh.

"Oh Sy..." he whispers. His voice is full of regret. He reaches out for me and pulls me near. I fight him. I don't want to give in. I want _answers_. But it's only a half-hearted struggle, because I so badly need to lie my head against his chest and feel his strength again. His love for me. I breathe in his scent and for a moment I allow myself to relax in his arms. This is where I belong.

But the little voice inside my head is not ready to let him off the hook yet.  
>I still don't get it. I just don't understand. What happened? Why did he say that? Why did he make me feel like I'm second best? When did I become second best?<p>

Because he... he... he is _everything_ to me... And I thought... I thought I was everything to him...

"Why?" I whisper against his chest. I don't know if he doesn't hear me or if he just doesn't know what to say. But he stays silent. I pull back from his embrace and forcefully rub my hands over my face. I'm not going to cry. I refuse to. I want answers.

I bravely face him, but my voice sounds anything but brave. "Why did you say that?" I ask again.  
>"I didn't mean it, Sy" he repeats, and tries to pull me back into his arms.<br>But I resist. We need to _talk_ about this.  
>So I ask him again. "Don't brush this off, Christian! Why would you say something like that if you don't mean it?"<p>

"Sy... please.. I was just being stupid... "  
>"That's not <em>good<em> enough, Christian! I want you to _talk_ to me... For heaven's sake, tell me what made you say that...!"

He stubbornly shakes his head.  
>"<em>Tell<em> me" I insist.

But he says nothing.  
>I can't take any more of this. Isn't he the one who always insists that I should talk more, that I should share my feelings? But he's not very good at that himself, is he?<p>

Agitated, I jump to my feet and start to pace up and down in front of him, trying to make myself calm down. The adrenalin is rushing through me. I dread the answer he's going to give me, I dread it like nothing else I've ever dreaded before. But I need to hear it. I need to know what I really am to him.

"I didn't _mean_ it, Sy..." he says again, desperately, insistingly "I was just angry … lashing out... And I wanted you to..."

He stops himself abruptly, and I stop pacing. I turn to him. "You wanted me to …. _What_?"  
>Christian shifts uncomfortably; his eyes dart away. And suddenly it hits me like a bolt of lightning.<p>

"_Tell_ me" I say, but I already know.

"_Decide_...!" he yells it out at last. The furious anger in that one word disintegrates in just a breath, as if finally saying it out loud releases the hold his frustration has over him ...  
>He sighs resignedly "I just wanted you to <em>decide<em>!"

His voice is calm now, his eyes beg me to understand him, but it only inflames me more.  
>"So that's your way of 'sorting me out' is it... ? That's why you said those hurtful things, why you gave me a... a bloody ultimatum, just to get a <em>reaction<em> from me?" I yell at him incredulously. I'm incensed. "You'd jeopardize _everything_ we have...just to get a quick decision out of me… ? What's _wrong_ with you, Christian?"

He sits back and closes his eyes in defeat. "I want this so much, Sy, and I was so sure that you did too. And then, out of the blue, you say you don't... And I couldn't handle that. Not _again_. I just snapped... I'm sorry... I really am."

I see the pain in his face, and it shreds my heart to pieces. I hate seeing him like this, so heavyhearted and so lost.  
>And as quickly as it came, my anger dissolves.<p>

I sit down next to him again, leaning my elbows on my knees, and burying my head in my hands. My head is swimming with a thousand thoughts.

I'm not sure what to say. Though I have to admit that I'm not surprised. Not really. This is nothing new. I know fully well that my indecisiveness frustrates the hell out of Christian, even to the point of infuriating him sometimes. Indecisiveness is not something he suffers from himself. He decides what he wants and goes for it. I admire that in him. I really wish I could be a bit more like that. I always hesitate.  
>So he likes to push me. Forces me to take a stand. Forces me to make up my mind and decide what I want... He knows exactly what buttons to push and he will do so deliberately to get a reaction from me. And in a way, I can't blame him for that. I get frustrated by my own dawdling too. And I've needed him to push me, it's done me good. If he hadn't pushed me, would I be the person I am now? Probably not.<p>

I love him for it.

But sometimes... sometimes I need him to back off a bit – give me the space and time to reach my own conclusions. Sometimes he just pushes too hard.

The silence between us lingers.  
>"I really screwed up, didn't I?" he says at last, with a mournful sigh.<br>"Just a bit" I tell him with a crooked smile. I really can't stay angry with him, I just love him too much.  
>"I screwed up too" I admit. "I'm sorry, Christian"<p>

I know I must try to explain. Make him hear me, and understand. I reach out for his hand. Our fingers entwine instinctively.  
>"When faced with things like this, Christian... with these life-defining decisions, I know that I doubt myself more than I probably should. You of all people know that."<br>He smiles a little and nods, "Yes..."

"That's _me_, Christian... I'm going to have doubts, I'm going to have regrets, I'm going to worry... And _you_... You help me get over that, you push me in the right direction. You force the issue and help me make up my mind, even if it's kicking and screaming! And in doing that, you help me achieve things beyond my wildest expectations...! And I love you for that. I do..."

I turn to him, take his hand in both of mine, and look right into his eyes.  
>"It's just... sometimes, Christian, you just push too hard. You decide that you know what I want, and you force me to take decisions I'm not ready to make yet. Being forced into doing that, especially when it's stuff like this, things that can have such huge consequences, change our lives forever... it freaks me out, it takes me completely out of my comfort zone. I need to think things through… I need to work it out in my head, imagine the worst,... and the best... And yeah... maybe I may need to change my mind a few times, and I know how infuriating that is for you... But that's how it works for me, because it's the only way I'll ever know for sure if I've made the right choice..."<p>

I smile at him gently, imploring him to understand.

"Sometimes... sometimes I wish you could just... have _faith_ in me a bit more. Trust me to reach my _own_ conclusions … the _right_ conclusions, at my own speed... in my own time. You're always so sure of what I want, Christian... and you're right a lot of the time... But you need to let me find out for myself every now and then... You know I'll come through in the end... I always do, don't I? Even if it takes me a long time sometimes..."

"I _do_ have faith in you, Sy. I really do... It's _me_... I just..." he shakes his head with regret.

I don't push him. I don't ask what he means. He'll tell me. I know he will.  
>He looks so serious, and I squeeze his hand, wanting him to smile, to stop looking so unhappy. Talking like this was what we both wanted, what we both needed. I'm so glad it's finally happening, and I want him to be glad, too.<p>

His eyes seek mine, his expression so tender, and yet so anxious, and I don't hesitate. I put my arms around his neck and move closer to him. He wraps me tightly against his chest, and we start to slightly sway.  
>This is what I want. This is where I belong. There is nowhere I'd rather be.<p>

Unexpectedly I feel Christian's chest heave, and I look up to see how he struggles back tears. Fear grips my heart.  
>"Christian... What's wrong...?"<br>"Nothing.." he attempts a smile, but I see right through him. He's scared.  
>"Tell me..." I beg him "<em>Please<em>, my love, tell me what you're so scared of.."  
>He shakes his head stubbornly.<br>"No..."  
>"Why not? Are you afraid to show that you're just human, like the rest of us...?"<p>

He lets out a quivering breath and pulls me even closer to his chest. I cling to him. I want to believe that all is well between us... In fact, I do believe that all is well. I am sure.  
>What he said wrenched my heart, but I know that he didn't mean it.<br>But we really need to talk about this. I need him to talk to me about this.  
>This is not some small thing, this is about us.<br>About our feelings. About our future together...

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**_More to come very soon. Promise._**  
><strong><em>Thanks in advance for your reviews.<em>**


	3. Chapter 3

_**A/N : Wow... this took me longer than I thought it would... As it turns out, there is indeed a lot they need to say to each other. It took me blood, sweat and tears, and I hope it manages to live up to expectations... a little bit at least.  
><strong>_

SO MUCH I NEED TO SAY TO YOU – CHAPTER 3

He looks at me with those gorgeous big brown eyes of his, silently imploring me to speak, and I slowly feel my resistance ebb away.  
>My resistance to tell him about my fears. I don't really want to tell him.<br>Aren't I the one who has to be strong?  
>Aren't I the one who has to sustain us?<br>If I don't... then what...? If I show him that I'm just as scared as he is, where does that leave us? I really don't know if I'm brave enough to admit to my fears.

But he won't let it go. I know him well enough to know that.  
>And I also know he's right. We really need to talk. Get it all out in the open. And why shouldn't I tell him?<br>Syed is my best friend. I just told him that I trust him. And I do.  
>He is the only person who I can tell anything and everything to. I know he won't judge me. He loves me more than I thought anyone could, and I love him more than life itself.<p>

And it's _that_ thought that suddenly grips me. It's that thought that suddenly brings to the fore all my hidden insecurities.  
>I squeeze him tightly in my arms, suddenly overwhelmed by my emotions. He strokes my back in comfort.<p>

"Tell me, darling" he whispers."Please tell me what it is. I know something is on your mind. I can feel you're upset. Please explain it to me."

I feel something give way in me. Like a dam has broken and it all just comes pouring out, my biggest fear. There it is.

"I'm afraid of losing you...!" I nearly choke on the words. "I just... don't want to _lose_ you!"

I struggle in vain to hold back my tears, and hide my face in the crook of his neck. I hate feeling vulnerable. And right now I do. So much. Syed doesn't speak, he just holds me close, lets me cry and gives me time.

"When..." I sigh tremulously, after my tears have subsided a little. "When that roof beam fell down … and you... you were lying there... and I didn't know... I didn't know if... you were all right... It just.. just hit me. What would I do without you? What would my life be without you? I was so scared... I'd never been so scared in my entire life... You are everything to me, Sy... _Everything_..."

Despite my own distress I can still feel him react to that. A soft sigh ripples through him, as if he's just rediscovered something that he'd lost.

I cling to him.  
>"And then … you <em>were<em> okay, and I _didn't_ lose you... and still... Still... I couldn't let it go... Ever since, I've been so terrified of anything happening to you… of losing you…"  
>I'm afraid to tell him the last bit. The ultimate part of my fear. But I clench my eyes firmly closed and blurt it out.<br>"Of you leaving me... of history repeating itself even…"

Syed pulls back a little to look at me, but I lower my eyes – I can't face him.  
>"Why on <em>earth<em> would I leave you?" he asks, and his voice is so quiet and so tender that I just have to look up at him  
>"<em>You<em> are everything to _me_, Christian. Don't you know that?"  
>"Yes... but..."<br>"But what?"  
>"You're so... so beautiful, and <em>so<em> young, Sy... and you've got all your life ahead of you. And one day you'll discover that there's more to life than... just... settling down with... me. Me! What am I? What have _I_ got to offer ? I'm just an old … an sad old qu... "  
>"Let me tell you what you are," he interrupts me resolutely, "you are a <em>fool<em>, Christian Clarke. You're a fool if you think that I would want anything else... _anyone_ else but you."  
>He softly caresses my cheek. "Is that why you sent me away?"<p>

I can only nod. I don't trust my voice. I know it would only take one more word to break whatever little bit is left of my self-control right now.  
>"You pushed me away to avoid getting hurt..." He finally understands, and shakes his head in regret.<br>"And I did hurt you, didn't I? I said some dreadful things..."

But I don't want him to blame himself. He always does that, and there's just no need. We've both been stupid.  
>"So did I..." I remind him. "I hurt you so badly, Sy, and still you blame yourself… Don't <em>do<em> that... Please."

I take a deep breath. It's hard for me to admit to my fears, but I know it's finally time to tell him everything. I know that Syed is the only one who really understands me.

"All my life, Sy... I've only depended on _me_. I was in control of my own life... And now.. I depend on _you_. My happiness depends on you. And sometimes... most of the time in fact, that terrifies the hell out of me... I feel vulnerable, and … exposed... And I'm not used to feeling that way. I'm not used to feeling scared... not even of things I have no control over, but this...this..." I sigh, suddenly deflated.

Then I feel his gentle hands wrap around my face, and he makes me look up, his beautiful dark eyes locking on mine.  
>"I told you before, Christian" he whispers "and I'm telling you again. I'm not going <em>anywhere<em>. I love you. I don't want a new exciting life, or whatever it is you and that silly head of yours imagine that I've been denied... I don't want it. Not if it's without you."

I feel my heart leap at his words. I never doubted it. Not really.  
>And still I have to ask.<br>"Are you sure?"  
>He smiles at me tenderly.<br>"Yes! I'm sure. You and me, Christian – that's what I want. _Us_."  
>He still holds my face in his hands, his thumbs are softly caressing my jaws. His eyes don't waver from mine.<br>"And… I want a family with you, Christian. I want us to have a family...together"

The look in his eyes reminds me again of the day he came home with me at last. That look in his eyes that convinced me that he meant it. He means it now. I know he does. I know that this is real.

But a little nagging voice in the back of my head makes me ask him the dreaded question.

"Then..." I clear my throat uncomfortably "Then why did you say that you didn't? That you didn't want to be a dad. That you weren't ready, and that..." I swallow hard, "that you thought you never would be..."

He sighs, and shakes his head in mild self-rebuke.  
>"I'm sorry," he says ruefully."I just needed to lash out..." He rolls his eyes when I huff at that. "I know, I know... we're as bad as each other...!"<p>

In that so familiar gesture of helplessness, he runs his hand through his hair.  
>"It was all such a mess in my head. I'd just been talking to dad..."<br>"Masood?" Now I get it.  
>"Oh... I see, I bet he said that it was all wrong... for us, for two gay men, to start a family... Made sure to remind you that it was sinful and..." I know I sound resentful, but there's not been any love lost between me and Syed's father. I used to think he was a decent enough chap, but then I saw the real man behind the perfect façade, and I can't forgive him for the way he's been treating his son...<p>

"No, Christian. It wasn't like that. Not at all..." Syed sighs, sitting back. "He was okay, actually. Of course, he wasn't exactly jumping up and down with joy at our plans, but... he was okay. He _listened_..."

I feel a sharp tug at my heart at that, and look at him. But Syed's eyes are closed, he's lost in the memory, and from the next thing he says, I know that remark wasn't a dig at me.  
>"He listened to me, Christian. My <em>father<em> listened to me. You can't imagine how that made me feel. It had been so long since... since we even sat down face to face and talked... For a moment there, my dad... felt like he was my dad again. And it had been so long since that happened. It felt _good_...even to disagree..."

He takes a deep breath. I am reminded again of how important his family is to Syed. How much he must have missed that bond over the past months. He hardly ever used to talk about it, but since the first tentative steps to a reconciliation were made, I have become more aware of his need to reconnect with that part of his life. And it has scared me. It still does... if I'm honest.  
>But I push it away. We've been through this. Too many times. I trust Sy. Reconnecting with his family will not take him away from me. I know that.<br>Besides, it can only a be good thing. For him, most of all. For his self-esteem, his confidence... and also for us... and for our future...

Syed's words interrupt the train of thought surging through my brain.  
>"So... no... he didn't exactly encourage me to go ahead with it... Well, what did you expect? But... he didn't try to talk me out of it either. He just told me that whatever I decided to do... I had to be <em>sure<em>. I had to be sure it was right for _me_, that it was what _I_ wanted, and that I wasn't just doing it... to please you..."

The words hang between us for a moment.

"It hit a nerve, Christian. I've never hidden to you that I have doubts, have I? Maybe you just didn't see it, or maybe you chose not to. And I guess I should have been more clear, more open about it. I'm really sorry if I wasn't... But... you _know_ me, don't you? I have to … chew on things. Think them over. Imagine everything that could possibly go wrong. I worry. I hesitate. That's me. It's in my nature.  
>You... you're so different. You grasp life and you run with it... And a lot of the time, I'm brave enough to close my eyes, take your hand and run along with you... And I'm happy to..."<p>

He finally looks at me again.  
>"But sometimes, you're just running too fast, and I get scared, Christian..." he bites his lip "And this... this was one of those times..."<p>

I watch him as he sits there, fidgeting nervously, picking at his fingers. There was a time when I thought there was no possible way I could love him more than I already do. And then he says something … something like this, and my heart just melts. I reach out and take his hand in mine again, entwining my fingers with his, and silently encourage him to continue.

He swallows as if he gathers up the courage to say something he's held back for a long time.

"My worries, Christian... my doubts... when I asked whether we are enough, you and me, for a child, whether we are _good_ enough to be parents... It was never about us being gay. It isn't. I don't want you to think that. It's connected to it, I admit, but it's never … in essence... about _that_. You and me, we're just two people with a lot of love to give. I know that any child would be lucky to have you as a father... and... well... I guess I'm okay too... But it's not just about what _we _think, is it...?"

He shrugs a bit uncomfortably. I know how he's far too humble to speak good of himself. He has such a low view of himself, I want to shake it out of him sometimes.  
>But now is not the time. I just let him speak.<p>

"I really don't think, Christian, that us being gay should stop us from being parents… But ..."  
>He sighs, "I do worry that things might be more difficult, <em>because <em>we're gay. Not just for us, but also, and maybe even more so, for the child... When we were in the café with Amy the other day... and those guys... You know... the stuff they said... It really got to me. Not for _our_ sakes, but for _hers_. We're adults, Christian. We live our lives the way we choose to, and the things other people think, or say, about that ... I can live with that. It's not nice to be judged, to be intimidated, to be called names, or to be stared at..., and I may never really get used to the ignorance of some people... but I can live with it. It's part and parcel of our lives... and I accept that. But ..."

He sighs. "Is it fair to put an innocent child through that...? A child who doesn't have a choice in the matter, should they be exposed to that kind of... horridness... ?"

An uneasy feeling of disquiet creeps up on me.  
>Is he having second thoughts again?<p>

He must read the worry on my face, because with shaky fingers he reaches out and softly wipes away the frown that creases my forehead.

"I need you, Christian... _you_, with all your confidence and your positive outlook on the world... I need you to reassure me. To tell me it will be fine, that we will get our child through all this stuff, that we'll give them confidence and self-esteem and all that... I know we can, I _trust_ we can."  
>His eyes fill, but no tears spill over.<br>"But we _need_ to talk about these things, Christian. We can't just brush it under the carpet. It's a reality we're going to be confronted with, and I worry about it. And I need to know that your … enthusiasm to become a parent hasn't blinded you from that reality. In that silly muddled-up mind of mine, I need those things … _resolved_ somehow... And I depend on you for that... I _need_ you for that…."

I feel a wave of tenderness wash over me; my heart swells with love for this precious man.  
>I put his nervous hand to my lips and press a kiss to the palm.<p>

I understand his worries. Of course I do. It's not as if I don't have them as well... I just like to push them away to the back of my head, pretend they're not there. That's how I deal with them... by _not_ dealing with them. I usually only want to think about crossing bridges when we come to them. And then I forge ahead, unyielding and determined. It's not the best way of handling things, I know that, but it helps me to move forward.  
>It's different for him. He can only move forward after he's considered and untangled these things beforehand.<br>And he is right. This is too important to just ignore.

"My darling Sy..." I squeeze his hand reassuringly. "You're right... As gay parents... we will have to face some tough challenges, raising a kid in …. in this society that can be... so... bloody intolerant. It makes me sad, and yeah... a little scared too... But ... you and me, _together_, we will teach our child about love and respect and tolerance. We will teach them to see the world as if they were colour blind. We'll show them that it doesn't matter what shade their skin is or... or whom they love... And that they should always respect others and other people's views, even if they're not the same as their own... Our son or daughter will grow up strong, and respectful and... beautiful... Beautiful, Sy... because we will love them, and guide them and... "

I stop, suddenly embarrassed, because I know I'm getting carried away again in all my enthusiasm.  
>Sy is smiling at me, tentatively, as if what I'm saying is too good to be true.<p>

"You'll be a _wonderful_ dad, Sy." I vow. "You're the most caring, most courageous person I've ever met."  
>He is momentarily taken aback by that statement.<br>"I'm not courageous" he mumbles.  
>"But you <em>are<em>! You aren't afraid of what other people think about you."  
>Sy is shaking his head in doubt.<br>"Well okay... Maybe you are … a bit... But what I mean is that you aren't afraid to be _you_ anymore. You're honest... open-hearted... compassionate... you're a _good_ man, Sy! In fact, you're the best person I know." My voice is hoarse, I'm getting pretty sentimental now.  
>"You are so amazing, and you don't even know it..."<p>

"But it's not just about _that_, is it, Christian... ?" he interrupts me.  
>There's a trace of … painful trepidation in his voice.<br>"What if...?" He bites his lip.  
>"What if <em>what<em>?"  
>"What if... our application is turned down...?" he blurts out.<br>"It won't be." I am adamant. I don't even want to consider that. Now that we've finally reached this point, I'm not even contemplating failure.  
>"It might be"<br>"It won't!"  
>"But what if it <em>is<em>, Christian?" He won't let it go. "We may think we are the best potential parents in the world, but it's not up to us to decide that, is it? What if the people who asses us don't see it that way... ?"  
>"Sy, <em>please<em>, don't even go there"  
>"Why not? We have to be real about this, Christian. There's loads of reasons why... why we might not be approved..."<br>"Sy...!"  
>"No, Christian! Seriously..." he sighs "and the truth is... a lot of these reasons would be down to <em>me<em>..."  
>"Don't do this..."<br>"No... _Listen_ to me!" He draws in a steadying breath. "Barely a year ago... I... I tried to kill myself... and.. they may think that I'm not … stable... enough or... whatever..."

I really don't want to hear this... Being reminded of Syed's attempt to take his life makes me go all cold inside – I don't want to think about it... I don't... But he goes on relentlessly, spilling at last all the worries and the worst-case scenarios that never-stopping, unrelenting mind of his keeps manufacturing.

"Or what if they find out about that …that... _therapy_ ... I put myself through? I went into therapy, Christian, because I wanted to stop myself from..."  
>He has to stop to gasp for air "... from wanting to be with you... from loving you... What does that say about me? About my... my emotional stability... and..."<br>"Sy, don't..."  
>"Why not?" He's desperate now. "It's not because we don't ever talk about it, Christian, that it didn't happen. It <em>happened<em>, okay...? It's real. I did all that. We can't keep ignoring it... _They_ won't..."  
>"You're not that person anymore, Sy..."<br>"No, I'm not. _I _know that, and _you_ know that, but..."

Suddenly I see what this is all about. It is like someone turning a light on in my head as it dawns on me.  
>He doesn't think... he can't be <em>thinking<em>_...?_

I take his face in my hands, force him to look at me, force him to stop what he is doing...

"Sy... stop it... Stop it now...!" I urge him. He takes a deep breath...  
>"Look at me" I ask him. "Please,..." He finally lifts his eyes up.<p>

"Sy... my darling... please, don't do this to yourself. Whatever happens, you and me are in this together. We're doing this _together_, or we're not doing it at all... Do you hear me? Forget all the stupid things I said earlier about.. doing it on my own..."  
>I cringe. Saying it again, that horrible, hurtful lie, puts a bitter taste in my mouth. I can't believe I really said that to him.<p>

"There is no _possible_ way I could do this without you, Sy...that I would even _want_ to do this without you. You have changed me, Sy. You've made me into the man I am now, and I'm so thankful for that... If it weren't for you, who knows where I would be right now. You hold us together... And I want you to know that I'll be there for you, through _anything_. Whatever happens... whatever we have to face... you and me... ... we'll face it together. And we'll be fine. I promise"

"Look... I hear you, Sy... I do. I know that this home study is going to be serious stuff... But all we can do is be honest, and be ourselves. They will see how committed we are... And they will see that whatever we had to face in the past, all the stuff we went through to get to this point... it has only made us stronger. It has made us _so_ strong, Sy..."

He closes his eyes and leans his face into my hands cradling his face, absorbing my words. I can almost hear the cogs in his head churning...  
>"I know it has" he whispers at last.<p>

"And if..." I start... "If we're not approved..."  
>It pains me to say it. There's a part of me, that over-enthusiastic, over-optimistic, over-positive part, that just doesn't want to go there. I don't want to think about not succeeding, as if that will jinx it somehow.<br>But I need him to know that whatever happens, it won't change a thing between us.  
>"If it's not meant to be, Sy..." I swallow hard "then it's not meant to be... But we'll still have each other. We'll <em>always<em> have each other..."  
>I draw him near. "Okay?"<p>

"Okay," he says softly.

He leans into my embrace and takes a deep, shivering breath before he opens his eyes to look at me again.

"You see...?" he smiles at me tentatively, and with shaking hands he touches my cheek. "You always manage to ease my worries..."

He bites his lip, serious again.  
>"This is what I needed to hear from you when I came home yesterday... I needed to talk to you, I <em>so<em> needed to talk to you... because after speaking to dad, I realized I may have not been totally honest with you... I want this, Christian, I really do... but it doesn't mean that I don't worry. That I don't have doubts... I needed to tell you that... So that we could find a way through those worries together. _Together_, Christian. Not you rushing ahead, pulling me along, and me just … stumbling behind... Together... Like parents do. I was going to ask you if we could slow down a bit. Do things a bit more at my pace..."

He sighs.  
>"And then … I came home and you... You were packing our lives away. I couldn't believe you were doing that. Again... you were pressing on, sprinting ahead. <em>You<em> had decided, on your own, what we were going to do... _You_ had decided that we were going to move, there and then... without even _thinking_ of talking to me about it... without even _asking_... Asking if... if I even _wanted_ to move...  
>If I wanted to leave behind... the only place I've ever... <em>ever<em>... been happy... in my entire life... Our _home_, Christian. Our little haven..."

A strangled sob escapes his lips and I feel guilt claw at my heart. What have I done?  
>"Sy... I'm so sorry..."<p>

"I couldn't _believe_ you were doing that, Christian... It was the last straw, I couldn't take anymore... I… I snapped. And I said all the wrong things… "  
>He shakes his head regretfully.<br>"Like I did" I remind him.

It suddenly strikes me. How close we came. How close we came to nearly throwing everything away. Everything we fought so hard for. I look at him. He's so beautiful. All of him, gorgeous from the inside out. I am the luckiest man in the world, and I nearly gave it up... For what?

"We came pretty close, didn't we? To throwing away our chance, I mean," Syed says quietly, as if he's reading my mind again. "We nearly lost each other,... because we were angry... and afraid..." His voice is breaking.  
>"I... I... almost... let you go... because I was stubborn and angry... and scared." I admit, nearly choking on the words.<br>The thought hits me like a blow to the face "I'm so, so sorry"

Without hesitation, he reaches out and wraps his arms around me. I bury my face in his shoulder, and let his nearness envelop me.  
>"I've missed you so much," I whisper. "God, I'm so sorry."<p>

He pulls away slightly to wipe away my tears, gently brushing my cheeks with his fingertips.  
>"Stop saying that. You're forgiven, and it's forgotten." He tilts my face to his. "We had a rough time, Christian, and we both made mistakes."<br>He wraps me, trembling, in his arms again. "But it's in the past now. And we're still together."

"We really do need to talk more, don't we…?" I mutter against his shoulder.  
>"Yeah… we do" he agrees.<p>

His gentle hands rubs my back in comforting strokes.  
>"Everything is gonna be okay now..." he whispers in my ear.<br>"Is it?" I wonder.  
>"Yes, it is. And you know why?"<br>"Why?"  
>He pulls back again and gazes at me, his gorgeous dark eyes, beautiful, bottomless, are holding mine.<br>"Because I _love_ you, Christian Clarke"

I reach out and trace his face with my fingertips. From his temple, along his beautiful cheekbones, and finally down to his mouth. My touch lingers there, softly stroking his lips, and I can't resist pressing a soft kiss there.  
>He kisses me back and smiles.<p>

"That's not _talking_, Christian" he chuckles.  
>"Isn't it?" I ask innocently. "Damn…"<p>

We both laugh at the light relief.

"Do you still love _me_?" he suddenly asks, there's a soft quaver in his voice. Any other time, that question would have alarmed me, shocked me even, but strangely, it does not now.  
>There is no doubt.<br>"Yes." I say. "Yes! With all my heart. Yes! For ever and ever... Everyone else is... is second best ... You know that... don't you, Sy?"  
>"I do" he bites his lip. "It's just… after everything we've been through over the past couple of days… I really needed to hear you say that…"<p>

He looks at me, tears on the brim of his eyes, and I rest my hand on his cheek to wipe those away that have already fallen.  
>I search in his eyes for a sign that he's okay.<br>His next words reassure me.  
>"You do know that I feel the same way about you, don't you?"<br>"I do" I say, and my heart skips a beat.

We sit in comfortable silence for a while. His fingers trace soft circles on my arm and he sighs quietly.  
>I lean against him, and feel myself relax, truly relax, for the first time in days.<p>

"Do you know what made me change my mind, Christian?" Syed finally asks.  
>"Sy... you don't have to explain..."<br>But he puts his finger on my lips to silence me.  
>"My heart." He smiles at me, a little shy.<br>"It was simple in the end... I just had to do what I did last time I made a decision that changed my life…" His eyes are burning bright at the memory.  
>"Take a step back, rid my head of all those things that confuse and worry me, and just... just look into my heart to find out what I want... And what I really want is this. I really want a family with you, Christian."<p>

His disarming, simple honesty renders me speechless.  
>There's a lump in my throat and I swallow desperately to push it away. So that I can finally tell him what I should have told him a long, long time ago.<p>

"You asked me, Sy... what it is that makes me want to be a dad so badly… And you're right… there really is no one-size fit-all answer to that question. There are so many things that are part of the reason why. I don't know where to start, really... Sometimes I'm surprised myself at that _need_ I feel to start a family. I never thought I'd feel like this. The thought of becoming a father had been on my mind before, but it wasn't until I met you, until you and me started to form our own little unit, that I became serious about it, that I realized how much I really wanted it... I guess it must be something about finding your soul mate... Because the main reason I want it... is just simply... that I want it with _you_..."

I cup his face in my hands again.  
>His eyes are shining, he's desperately trying not to cry, and so am I.<p>

"I love you, Sy. You... you are amazing. I can't wait for you to become a dad. You'll be the _best_…. And I can't wait to expand our family, our little circle, and seal the bond between us just that little bit more. There are so many children that have been dealt a bad hand in life. To welcome one of them in our home, and in our hearts, and to let them be loved – it's a wonderful thing that we can offer. Imagine the joy we'll feel in helping that kid grow, and become their own... And… all the things we can learn from them… And...  
>I have a <em>thousand<em> answers, Sy..."

He smiles at me through his tears.  
>"I don't need a thousand answers, Christian... Just one will do."<p>

And looking into his beautiful face, it suddenly comes to me. It's simple really.  
>"It feels right, Sy. It just, really, feels like the right thing to do..."<p>

"There…you see? That wasn't too hard, was it?" he murmurs "You got it in one…"

He pulls my face close to his. From my forehead, over my eyelids, down my cheek, he leaves a trail of soft butterfly kisses until he reaches my mouth. Our lips join in a brief loving kiss. It's not the all-consuming passion that so often rages between us, instead it offers the promise of love, comfort and the emotional togetherness we nearly lost.

"I'm sorry, Christian, that it's taken me so long."  
>I hush him, press his hand to my cheek.<br>"It's all right," I say softly. "I forgive you…. And I'm sorry too, for pushing too hard…"  
>"I forgive you too," he says, and it feels like a great weight lifting from me.<p>

We remain locked in the moment – and in each other's eyes - for minutes. It feels like hours.

Syed snuggles close to me and I wrap him in my arms. He buries his face in my neck and sighs deeply.  
>"Just hold me, Christian" his voice is just a whisper.<p>

I close my eyes, and stroking through the soft hairs at the nape of his neck, I revel in the feeling of holding him in my arms again.

"Always." I promise.


End file.
